


Trapped

by de_klaire



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 05:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_klaire/pseuds/de_klaire
Summary: When Peter Parker gets trapped in a collapsed building it bring up some non-too-pleasant memories of the last time a building collapsed on him.





	1. Chapter 1

   "This isn't happening. This can't be happening." The concrete was creaking, the building was swaying a little. Or maybe that was Peter. He wasn't entirely sure. 

    "Pete, bud, everything okay in there?" The sound of Tony's voice was so crisp over the com, so clear that if Peter closed his eyes he could imagine he was in there with him. Not three miles away, fighting bad guys while Peter was struggling to fight his own demons. 

    "Uh- yeah. Yeah, everything's fine, Mr. Stark." Peter's voice broke, betraying the fear coursing through his veins. 

    "Tony." The man gently corrected. "That building is fine, Peter. Remember what your therapist talked about?" 

    "It's just in my head. My body is just trying to protect itself." He managed to choke out around his quickly closing throat. 

    I can breathe. He reminded himself, clamping his eyes shut for a moment. The building is stable, it isn't going to collapse on you. You can breathe, and you are not going to die, and you are fine. He took a shuddering breath. 

   "Okay, what do I need to do?"He pretended not to hear Tony's relieved sigh. 

    "We think the captives are in the basement. We aren't sure how to get in except for the vents."

    "The vents?" He strained out, hoping he'd heard wrong. Another sigh came through Peter's com.

    "Yeah, bud. The vents. I know it's gonna be tight, but no one else can fit." 

   Peter closed his eyes for a moment. Can't move, can't breathe, going to suffocate, going to die.

   "Okay, where's the entrance." Peter heard Tony pause, hesitating as the wheels in his brain turned. Finally, slowly, he began talking. 

    "The best entrance is gonna be on the roof. It'll get you to the main vent system, which should be big enough for you to crawl through without it being too tight."

    "Got it." Peter glanced one last time around the ware house, only shuddering slightly. His eyes fixed on the heavy metal doors, stairs marked in blocky white letters. "I'm on my way now."

   Peter took off at a jog, trying to focus his breathing. In two three, out two three, in two three, out two three. He pulled the door, only to find it locked. He ignored the shiver that ran up his spine. Trapped, crushed, suffocating. 

   He gripped the handle hard, ripping the lock system off with ease. He took the stairs three at a time, eager to be on the roof. Out of the suffocating concrete.... and into the vent system. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Ran through his mind briefly. He pushed the thought out of his mind, pushing himself onwards.

    Peter took the stairs three at a time, eager to get up and out. He kept his mind mind on the civilians trapped in the basement, pointedly ignoring what his brain was pushing to think about. Concrete slabs falling through the basement ceiling, crushing him and everyone ins- no. He didn't have time to break down. People needed him. 

    He had to break off the lock to the roof door as well, but it was worth is to step out into the open air. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves. It was a relief to be out of the building, free from the concrete walls that seems to press in on him. 

    "Okay, I'm on the roof." He could almost see Tony stiffly nod the way he always does. Curt and serious, like nothing else mattered in that moment. 

    "There should be an AC system. It'll look like a giant silver box." Peter scanned the roof, easily spotting it.

     "Yeah, I see it." 

    "Perfect. It'll be locked so you'll need to break your way in."

    "No problem." 

    Peter jogged fowards, reaching it quickly. There was no handle, only a place for a key. He frowned for a moment, but was quick to move. He shot a web, sticking to the front of the door, and pulling harshly. The door came off harder than he thought it would and he had to dodge to the side to keep from being hit, releasing the web so it didn't jerk his arm out of socket. 

    "I'm in." He stepped into the box, and surely enough there was a hole slightly bigger the width of his shoulders and only a little taller than him. From there the metal compartment seemed to cut sharply to the right, leading somewhere Peter couldn't see.

    "Do you see the entrance?"

    "Yeah." 

    "Alright, Pete. It's that time." Peter couldn't help but shiver at the words.

    "O-okay." He heard Tony sigh yet again.

    "I promise it's safe. I'll be on the coms the whole ti-" He was cut off by a series of curses and the sound of the iron suits blasters going off. 

    Peter swallowed hard, looking into the entrance of the vent system again. "Okay, Peter. You can do this. Karen, pull up the vent systems map." 

    "Here you go, Peter." The blue prints flashed to life in the corner of his vision, a red line highlighting his path.

    He looked down at the drop one more time, sucking in a breath before he hopped down. The tunnel broke off into four sections like a t. The light faded off quickly in each direction. 

    "Karen, night vision on." He managed to choke out, trying to ignore how quickly his chest was tightening. "Mr. Stark?" No answer. 

   He took a shaky breath. "Okay, Karen, which way?"

    "Straight ahead, Peter. I would recommend waiting for a response from Mr. Stark. Would you like me to try to contact him again?"

    "No, uh, that's okay. The hostages need to get out of there." He crouched down to his hands and knees, hesitantly crawling forward. 

    The reaction from his body was insantaneous. He tried to swallow away the growing lump in his throat with little success. Evertime he reached forwards his shoulders would bump into the walls, making him feel even more trapped. 

    Stuck, unable to move, can't breathe, going to die in here.

    He had to pause to catch his breath, lungs shuddering with the effort. 

    "Peter your vitals are increasing rapidly, should I contact Mr. Stark for you?" 

    "No, I'm fine." He ground out between his teeth, urging himself forwards again. 

    Trapped, suffocating, someone anyone help me please. He dropped onto his belly, army crawling himself forward until he came to a T in the vents. 

    "Karen?"

    "Take a right, Peter." He continued on for what felt like forever, his breaths coming in wheezes until spots danced in front of his eyes. 

    "Peter, you appear to be hypervenalting." He rested his forehead against the cool metal, trying to calm himself. He glanced at the blueprint in his vision. He couldn't be more than 30 feet from the ladder he would take down to the basement. He could do this. He had to this. 

    "It's fine, I'm almost there." With an amount of resilience Peter didn't know he had, he continued crawling forward. Panic was making his head spin like a merry-go-round.

    Trapped, suffocating, dying. Trapped,suffocating, dying. Trapped, suffocating, dying. Trapped, suffocating, dying. 

    Despite it he carried on, his suit rubbing uncomfortably against his body as he shuffled along the metal. 

   After what felt like forever he had reached it, a shoot that went straight down so far you couldn't even see the bottom. Peter attacked a web to the top and enthusiastically slid off, belaying himself down, down, down. 

    The space was tight but the decent was so quick Peter couldn't bring himself to care. 

    "Peter?" Tony's voice came through the com, static crackling. 

    "Yeah, Mr. Stark?" 

    "Why haven't you been answering, we've been trying to contact you for almost ten minutes." Peter didn't like the edge of panic in Tony's voice. It was unsettling and wrong. He stopped his decent for a moment. 

    "I'm in the vents, almost to the basement." A sharp intake of breath came from the other side of the com and suddenly Peter couldn't breathe again. "Why, what's wrong?" 

    "Peter, bud, I need you to stay calm, okay?" Despite the words panic was crawling up Peter's throat, anxiety taking it's grip on him. 

    "Tony?"

    "It was a trap, Peter, there's no hostages. Okay? You need to get out of there right now." 

    "Why, what's happening? Tony, what's happening?" Peter's voice broke. His heart was pounding in his chest, making his eyes swim and breath shudder. 

    "They have sonic blasters in the basement, Peter." Peter's mind snapped like a rubber band. 

    Trapped, suffocating, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe. Can't move, can't escape, no one knows, no ones coming, I'm going to die in here. 

    "You aren't going to die, Peter." Had Peter said that out loud or did Tony just know him that well? He could be sure.

    "T-T-Tony?" His teeth were chattering uncontrollably, accenting the word strangely and making it far too choppy. 

    "Yeah, Pete, I'm right here."

    "T-Tony I can't-t br-re-eathe." 

    "You can, Peter, you can. I need you to focus okay? We're going to get you out of there, but you need to focus." 

    "O-okay." 

   "Alright, goo-" Tony's voice was cut off and all Peter could think was too late. Boom. 

   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very short but felt like it needed its own chapter. Don't worry though guys! Will be out tomorrow with a third chapterl from Tony's point of view, so you won't have to wait long!

    Before Peter could realize what was happening he was free falling, attempting to curl against the debris in mid-air. Concrete slammed against his side and he heard a sickening snap as his whole arm was set on fire. 

    The fall couldn't have taken long, but it felt like an eternity. Threats seamed to come from every side, concrete and metal threatening to crush him the moment he hit the bottom. Something hit his curled spine and he cried out in pain, suddenly finding it almost impossible to breathe. Boom.

    A second shock wave sent him flying sideways. His ears were ringing, and he faintly realized his ear drums had burst. Peter didn't know which pain to focus on. Every part of his body was screaming in agony until he silently begged for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. 

     The pain of falling was nothing like the contact when he hit the ground. His spine arched like someone who's heart was being revived by shock paddles. For a moment he thought of Tony, how his back had arched just like that when he'd been recesitated after Thanos. The ability to think was lost when the pain radiated throughout his while body. 

    His vision went black, and he was almost grateful as he faded into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone leaving comments and kudos! You can't imagine how much I appreciate the support!!!

   It was like all the breath had been sucked from Tony's lungs. He was frozen, hovering ten feet above the ground as his whole body trembled. "Peter?" He barely managed to choke out. 

    "Peter, can you hear us?" Nat's voice was grinding through the coms now. Soon, the others followed. Tony, Natasha, Steve, Clint, Sam, Rhodey, Bucky and Wanda were all shouting, desperate for any reply. Any confirmation that the rubble in front of them wasn't quickly forming Peter's grave. 

    Tony reached the edge of the chaos first. Dust billowed up from the ruins, concrete smashed into nothing. Tony tried not to think that Peter may be the same way. Crushed until all that was left was dust. He couldn't see his kid turned into dust again. 

    "Peter?" He tried again, still getting nothing back from the boy trapped inside. "FRIDAY, how stable is this thing?"

    "Not very, boss. More shifting of the rubble may cause the building to further collapse." Tony cursed under his breath.

    "Run a scan, see if you can find Peter's heat signature."

    "I can if you want me to, but it may be easier to use the tracker or Peter's suit." The AI gently suggested. He swallowed hard, he had to get his head straight. If he couldn't even thing right there was no way he'd get Peter out of this alive.

    "Yeah, okay, do that then. Just make it snappy... please." Desperation was clogging Tony's throat. Every passing second felt like Peter was slipping further and further away. 

    "Here you go boss." A red pin dropped in his vision, pointing to where Peter's body was. It was far across the rubble, at the opposite side of Tony. "Would you like a report of Peter's health status." Tony hesitated. Did he want to know? He had to. He had to know if he wanted to help Peter in the best way possible.

    "Yeah. Give me that while I start heading over there." He put just enough power into the suit to move himself forward, flying carefully as to not disturb anything. The last thing he needed was to make the whole situation worse. 

    "Peter's suit is damaged, so I do not have a full list of injuries."

    "That's fine, FRIDAY! Just tell me what you've got!" He snapped, frustration ringing in his ears. 

    "Peter has suffered trauma to the head, you may need to be concerned for brain bleeds. Both of his ear drums have burst, as well. His right arm has severe damage, but the sensors aren't sure of what. Five of his ribs are broken on the right side, and based on his shallow and uneven breath they may have punctured his lung and caused it to collapse." Tony could only be horrified, oxygen refusing to enter his lungs. The AI was far too chirpy, far too happy to be saying such things about his kid. "He also appears to have cracked his spine." 

    Tony choked, an elephant seeming to have taken a seat on his chest. "His... his spine?" He choked out around his teeth. "He broke his spine?"

    "Yes, boss. Peter appears to have fractured his L3 and L4 vertebrae. Would you like me to continue with the list of injuries?" Tony almost said no, refused any further information of how the poor kid could possibly be hurting. But he could injury Peter further if he didn't know. 

     "Y-Yeah." 

    "Okay. Peter appears to be suffering bleeding, though I'm not sure from what organ. He has several contusion throughout his epidermis, dermis, and some go down to the fat layer. He has several broken bones in his right foot. That is all."

    Tony wanted to be relieved by the end of the list, but he was too busy being haunted by the plethora of injuries Peter had. So many of them were severe, too. He didn't want to imagine what the poor boy looked like. He didn't have too. 

    From above the rubble he saw a single arm, red and blue cloth nearly ripped to shreds still trying to cover it. It laid so unnaturally, looking almost like a limp noodle that had been twisted and curves. Tears sprung to Tony's eyes and he suddenly felt sick. If this was just Peter's arm, how bad would the rest of him look? 

    "FRIDAY, what's the best way to proceed?" He was surprised when his voice was thick with tears. Faintly, he recognised that they were trickling down his cheeks as well, settling uncomfortably as the dripped onto the crook of his neck. 

    "You'll need go levelly lift off the concrete slab covering Peter's body, boss. Try to shift it as little as possible."

    Tony took in a sharp breath, steeling himself for what was next as gently lowered down, grabbing the concrete from either side, and lifting it from Peter's body. 

    He laid it aside, and when he turned back the choked sob he'd been trying to repress finally escaped. Peter's body was twisted unnaturally, his legs facing up while his chest laid to the side. His other was curled protectivly around himself, as if Peter was trying to held his broken body together. Tony could see where his ribs had broken, and the concaved in unnaturally each time Peter would take a breath. At some point the boy's mask had been ripped off, leaving his bloodied face out in the open. Dark brown blood was already beginning to crush in each of his ears, and pooled unnaturally from deep cuts in his cheek and for head. Peter was unconscious, but looked anything but peaceful. His face was twisted, as if he was still in pain, even in his sleep. 

    "Oh my g- Peter?" Tony's voice broke, and he allowed the nanobots in his suit to slide away, leaving him open and vulnerable as he tried to carefully kneel on the uneven rubble. His hands hovered carefully above the kids body for a moment, before pulling them back. Too afraid to touch, too afraid to make it worse.

    "Guys." He said hoarsly into the coms. "Call the medics."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I know! I'm the worst! Please don't hate me! But the good news is the next chapter will be up tomorrow at the latest, hopefully today!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short again, but I like switching chapters when I switch point of views. I'm also trying to post once or twice a day, but if you guys would prefer me to write longer chapters and spread them out more I can do that too. Comment below which you prefer!

    The first thing Peter noticed was the pain. His whole body felt like it had been crushed and then set on fire. He wanted to scream in agony, but only managed a slight whimper. Even that hurt, his throat squeezing in protest. His lungs spasmed, trying to cough, but he only wheezed. Spikes of sharp pain shot through his right lung, causing him to groan, which seemed to set the whole process over again.

    Next he noticed the smell. Rubbing alchohal, jet fluid, and iron flooded his nose. If he had the energy he would have gagged.   
    
   His mouth tasted like dust and blood, faintly he wondered if he'd bitten his tongue when he'd fallen. He had fallen... The thought made his heart speed up, mind begging to regain his other senses.

    Hearing came next- and it was absolute chaos. Someone was yelling, a lot of people actually. Yelling things about stabilization, and punctured lungs, and a fractured spine. His fractured spine, he realized with a pang of panic. But he didn't care about that. 

    The only sound he cared about was Tony's voice. "Hey, Pete. I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm right here bud." Peter felt soft fingers running through his mangled hair. "It's gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it alright." 

    Sight. Peter peeled his eyelids open, his eyelashes sticking together from some paste formed by concrete dust and tears. Opening his eyes only magnified his pain by ten, and he had to fight the urge to clamp them right back shut. Instead he scanned the area. For a moment he tried to move his head, but shooting pain and several warning voices as he was held in place made him stop. 

    "No no no, don't move Pete. I'm right here." Tony moved himself into Peter's line of vision, giving him a strained smile. "How are you feeling, Bambino?" 

    "Ouch." Tony smiled as the hoarse response, running his hand over Peter's hair again. 

    "Yeah, bud, I know." Peter frowned at the thick sound of tears in Tony's voice.  

"I-I-I c-can't-" The effort to talk only made everything hurt again, and Tony only shushed him.

"Don't talk right now. I gotcha, bud." 

Peter took one last look at Tony. He soaked in everything about the older man. His face, the scruff growing around his goatee, the concerned wrinkles around his eyes. As he felt himself slipping into darkness, he gave a silent prayer that he would see the face again.


	5. Chapter 5

    Four days, two hours, and seven minutes. That's how long Tony had waited. That's how long the life of a piece of his soul hung in the balance. Coming in and out of surgery, always under a sedative when he and May were allowed to see him. Tony would have given up absolutely anything to see those big chocolate eyes staring up at him again. 

    Waiting was harder than when he'd been there; pulling the kid out of the rubble, or holding him down while the medics worked in the field. At the very least keeping him calm. Then he was at least doing something. Now he could only sit in a chair and pray to whatever gods were listening that Peter would make it. Because if Peter didn't make it, Tony wouldn't make it either. 

    Time went at snails pace, everything blurring together. Occasionally, if they were lucky, a doctor would take a moment to come out and give them sort of minute detail to what was happening. They'd be told Peter was going into surgery, but before they could even ask what for the doctor would be whisked away, and they knew that meant another complication had arisin. Peter had been taken off of the ventilator, but they hadn't known he was on the ventilator in the first place. They'd put the ventilator back in only an hour later. The whole thing was enough to drive Tony crazy.

    At some point food had been pushed into his hands, Tony didn't eat it. Steve had practically forced water down his throat, if only to keep the billionaire alive. He hadn't slept. Not properly, anyway. Only that half doze as his head rolled forward, snapping back up just in time so he didn't slump forward in his chair.

   When he wasn't torturing himself he was comforting May. Attempting to whisk away any thought of it being her fault. If anyone, this was on Tony. Mumbling empty promises that Peter was strong, that he'd pull through. They were more for himself, if Tony was being honest. But Tony wasn't being honest.

    Instead, he told lies. "I'm fine, Pepper." "No, Rhodey, I'm not hungry." "Don't worry, Happy, I took a break this morning." "I'll go shower in a little bit, Natasha, just give me five more minutes." "Yes, Steve, I've slept." 

    Why was everyone so worried about Tony? Tony wasn't the one with shrapnel buried in his stomach. Tony wasn't the one who couldn't even breathe on his own. Tony hadn't had a building collapse on him. Twice. If Peter made it out of this physically, the mental crap was almost certain to screw the poor kid up. 

    "Tony?" Tony slowly came out of his own thoughts, looking up to acknowledge the voice.

    "Hm?" Pepper was staring down at him, a bowl of spaghetti clutched in her hands.

    "I brought food." She offered, holding it out to him.

    "Not hungry." He mumbled, slumping back into his chair, fully prepared go back to ignoring her. 

    "Yes you are." She shoved the bowl into his hands. He begrudgingly took it, setting it down on his lap. Pepper sat down in the seat beside him, gently laying her head on his shoulder. 

"I'm scared, Pep." His whisper was just audible. 

"I know." She whispered back. "Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know these chapters have been so ridiculously short, but I've been busy and really wanted to post an update today. Let me know what you think! Honestly, seeing your comments is the best motivation for me to write!!! I have more time on my hands tomorrow, so I'm hoping to get up a longer chapter very soon!


	6. Chapter 6

    A steady beeping brought Peter just under the surface of conscience. The beat of it was just enough to make him focus, zoning in on the noise. It wasn't much longer before his mind seemed it safe to wake all the way up. Twitching his fingers and noticing the light pressure around one hand, and something hard and rough on the other. His eyes peeled open next, slowly taking the in the input surrpunding him.

    To his right May was slumped forward in a chair, head on the bed and hand laying over Peter's. Her soft, even breathing signalled him to the fact that she was still asleep.

    On his left he was made aware that the rough texture on his hand was a red cast running all the way from his bruised knuckles to his aching shoulder. He didn't have to look much farther to find Tony.

He was sitting cross legged on a roll-away bed, hunched over a stark pad. His dark circled eyes were focused on the screen, blinking slowly as if he was trying to stay awake. Scruff surrounded his grown-out goatee and Peter almost thought his face was a bit thinner than before. 

    "Tony?" Peter was surprised by the sound of his own voice, so scratchy you could barely make out what he was saying. He swallowed, attempting to wet his throat. He only succeeded in making a sensation like razors drag over his vocal chords. He winced slightly.

    The billionaires head snapped up so fast it could have given him whip lash. The man didn't seem to care though, scrambling up from his spot, the stark pad quickly forgotten as it fell haphazardly to the floor. 

    "Hey, Pete. How ya feeling, bud?" Peter didn't miss the tears that choked his voice. 

    Peter pointedly ignored the question, not wanting to upset Tony any further with the truth. Instead he managed a strained smile. "What happened?"

    Tony started to reach out, as if to run a hand through Peter's curls, then seemed to think better of it. Peter silently wished he would have followed through with the action. "Let's just say you have bad luck when it comes to collapsing buildings."

    "Oh." Was all he could think to say, staring back at the older man. "Are you okay?" Tony barked out a laugh, short and harsh. Peter couldn't help but flinch. 

    "Am I okay? Bud we're all just worried about you." Tears were spilling over Tony's cheeks now, his chest shuddering unevenly as his hands started to tremble.

    "Tony?" If Peter had trusted his body to, he would have sat up. Reached out and tried to comfort his mentor.

    "I-I." Tony swallowed several time, almost convulsively. "I can't breathe." He was reaching his hands up now, one gripping at his chest the other at his hair. Cold realization settled into Peter's mind.

    "Yes you can, Tony. You're having a panic attack. Remember? Your body it just trying to protect itself." The man's eyes met Peter's, wide and panicked. 

    "I can't. I can't." 

    "Yes you can. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight." Tony hesitated, shaking his head slightly. Peter tried again. "In for four, hold for seven, out for eight." His breath sucked in, choking at first, but seeming to calm after a few tries.

    This lasted almost ten minutes, Peter gently reminding Tony to breathe every now and then. Once it was over though, Peter had a single priority. 

     "Okay, good. Now get over here and give me a hug."


	7. Author's Note

Hey everyone! So, I'm not sure if I want to continue this work or not. I may come back to it later, but for now, at least until I break out of my writers block, I'm going to work on a collection of Marvel whump oneshots. Requests are officially open, so please leave some in the comments section below. Thank you guys so much for all the support you've all left on this story! You can't comprehend my gratitude.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter just for you guys cause we're soooooo close to 100 kudos.

"Do you feel that?" Peter shook his head. "How about that?" No again. Tony squeezed his hand in some form of comfort. May ran a finger through his curls for the same reason. The doctor moved the pin away from Peter's feet. 

"Sorry, but, um, what does that mean exactly?" Peter felt a little stupid asking. Maybe because he was in the room with a doctor, nurse, and genius. Maybe because he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it aloud.

"Well, Mr. Parker, we can't be entirely sure. Normally I would diagnose permanent paralysis, possible helped by physical therapy but with your... condition." Peter could practically feel Tony roll his eyes. "We don't know that your advanced healing won't take care of this. Time will be the only way to know." 

"And his other... injuries?" May's voice was choked, holding back tears. Undoubtedly trying to be strong for her nephew. 

"Well in that aspect I do have some good news. As you know, Peter has been healing significantly faster than the average person, but for the past few weeks his body has been focused on the more extreme of the injuries. Now that he's in the clear his surface injuries and bones are mending rather quickly. I believe both your arm and foot cast will be off within the week, and the cuts on your face probably won't even scar." May smiled at Peter. 

"That's great, right bud?" He tried to smile, to nod encouragingly, but the most he managed was closer to a grimace. 

"I'll leave you alone. The nurse should be up soon with discharge papers." The man left hastily, awkwardness thick in the air. 

"Pete-" Tony began, before he was promptly cut off. 

"Please don't." Peter's voice was thick with tears. "You don't have to be all positive, I know its bad, we all..." He swallowed hard to keep the water works at bay. "We all know it's bad."

"I was just going to ask if you were okay." Peter looked up at Tony, all warm eyes and sad smile, and promptly broke down. 

Two sets of warm arms enveloped him and he allowed them to stay there. All crying together at how badly he'd lost this battle.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so mean to Peter, whoops!


End file.
